Greetje
by Sistersong
Summary: Greetje is ripped between two different worlds, struggling to find her own place in time and the ranks of the Forsaken. She tries to get back in to grace with the Dark Lady while Hazajin gets sucked into the misery that surrounds the undead Warlock
1. Chapter 1, Work in the morning

**_Prologue_**

_Inspired by my dear friend Rooietroll who has her own fan-fictionaccount, I started writing._

_She wrote several stories about her World of Warcraft characters which are cunning, touching and a lot of fun to read._

_I love reading and I love writing myself, though I am not strong in both. Especially writing in a foreign language I find difficult. Nonetheless it doesn't hold me back. I leave it up to you, the reader, to judge._

_Please feel free to comment on my story and criticism is welcome as long as it is something I can actually do something with or learn from._

_Rooietroll and I both play World of Warcraft and we even play together. She plays a male troll rogue and I a female undead warlock. This story is about how our two characters met, got to know each other and how they parted._

_I am planning to write several chapters and as it is going now, it will be a long long story. So keep on reading and enjoy!_

_Read how Greetje is ripped between two different worlds, struggling to find her own place in time and the ranks of the Forsaken. How she tries to get back in to grace with the Dark Lady and how Hazajin gets sucked into the misery that surrounds the undead Warlock._

_All she wanted is to get home, but she seems to get more lost with each step._

_The story takes place in the World of Warcraft universe and all characters used are property of Blizzard. I simply gave it a twist of my own._

_I want to thank my friend Rooietroll for believing in me and for lighting the spark to write myself._

_And my boyfriend for being critical, honest and motivating._

_Enjoy!_

_Sistersong_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1, Work in the morning<strong>

Slowly Greetje opened her hands and stretched her fingers to let the blood flow again. The swollen flesh had turned deep darkpurple and her hand was throbbing with the same rhythm as her heart. Yellowish white stripes marked where the heavy buckets had pressed deep in her grasp.

She looked at her hands and sniffed disapprovingly. While she turned them in front of her to give them a thorough inspection, the bright morning sun did not leave no room for secrets. Her hands were nothing like the graceful soft beauties she got complimented on so many times. Hard labor had ruined her hands with callus, blisters and scars.

With the returning of feeling in her hands also came the memories of the many changes that had rapidly turned her life upside down.

Ever since her mother became ill her quiet secure and blooming life as a student of Dalaran University was put on hold. She was a promising student with a natural talent for learning and she excelled in science and chemistry. Even in magic the patience and determination paid off with high grades.

Her mother was so proud that her oldest daughter was to follow in her footsteps. Greetje tried to push away the big lump of sorrow that tried to make its way up through her chest. She grasped her chest. Hoping she could stop it of reaching her mind, making her relive the pain and shame she have been fighting against for so long.

Greetje released the knot of her backpack to let the bundle of wet, just washed, clothes fall gently on the grass. While she made sure none of the cloth touch the ground, her shoulders and back celebrated their regained freedom with a tinkling sensation. Her entire body was acking.

With a big groan of relieve she sat down. The sounds of the forest surrounding the open spot where soothing. Nature was awakening with the wind dancing through the leafs and birds singing their timid morning songs.

Greetje took a deep breath. She always enjoyed the brief moments alone on this open spot. She wasn't allowed a break yet, but she had been working long before sunrise and now the sun hadn't shake off its red morning coat. She was ahead of schedule Greetje realized. Grateful with today's progress she smiled pleased at the sun and it answered with a warm beam on her face. She leaned back and watched how the clouds gently drifted by. Her surrounding filled her with serenity. The fresh grass tickled her skin while a soft breeze cooled her painful limbs like motherly kisses. Just for a moment she felt completely at peace. Greetje closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to wonder off.

Memories of her mother filled her head. Her mother was a thin, tall, beautiful woman, with a radiant smile and iceblue eyes you could lose yourself in. But it was her grace and majestic movement together with her soft though powerful voice that made raging bloodlust orc bend their knees. Greetjes father always talked with heartwarming pride and love about her mother. Especially about how she choose him over a fast number of men from here and yonder whom came to court her. And she had many admirers her father told her. She had chosen him, a hard working woodcutter. Her father was a robust strong men with simple dreams, from a simple family. He knew he had been blessed with more then he deserved. Or maybe even more then he could handle.

Her mother on the other hand was from a high standing family that had come to court. It was only logical that her mother was a powerful Mage of Dalaran as her ancestors had been before her, but she had left the order.

Her mother had refused to talk about her past and even got angry when Greetje dared to ask again. But is was the grieve in her mother's eyes that made Greetje stop asking.

Her mother had been caring and loving to Greetje and her much younger sister Fluweel, but it took some real effort to remember her smiling. In fact Greetje remembered her mother as sad mostly. She was surrounded with an aura of depression. Nonetheless Greetje loved her mother with all her heart and she missed her even more each passing day. Her father broke when all the misery stroke their humble family.

Her father adored her mother with a saint like admiration.

He was not good with the "female feelings" has he called it, but he stood by her mother's sorrows no matter what. He worked hard to please his wife.

Greetje sighed at the painful memories that rapidly followed each other. She felt responsible for her mother's sadness, though her mother fiercely denied it. It didn't take a brainiac to figure out what happened . Her mother had become pregnant with Greetje at a young age and instead of getting rid of it she married her father. A marriage far below her standards. She had to resign from her prestige position as a mage at court. It was a great honor to be a mage and advisor at the kings court, especially at her age. It wasn't taken lightly that she discarded the position. She had to trade in her beautiful decorated chambers in the castle for a one room cottage. She was forbidden ever to practice magic as a mage again. Banned from court and discarded by her family and friends she stared a new life as woodcutters wife. Her father told her they never been so happy and when she was born their lifes where complete and perfect. But Greetje couldn't remember her mother happy. It was fault her mother had to drop everything she had.

Sometimes, Greetje wished she never was born so her mother could have stayed at court.

It was guilt that drove Greetje t apply to the university. She wanted her mother to be proud and happy for her more than anything. Maybe becoming a mage like she was would. Thanks to an old friend of her mother, Greetje was allowed to do the entry exams. It was rare that a common peasant girl like her would even be allowed near a mage, let alone become one. Apparently her mother hadn't lost all her old connections. Greetje glowed of joy when her mother told her what she arranged for her daughter. Something happened that day and when the examinator told her she past with surprisingly good results, something started to burn in her chest. A spark of desire. An excitement was born: she wanted to become a mage. The best mage of Azaroth would know, even better then Kadghar and just for herself. It was the first time she really wanted something for herself.

The intellectual challenges, the hard studying, the usage of her mind and the warm exciting rush after succeeding a test, was like food to her. She devoured all the knowledge she got hold on. The hunger for more couldn't be satisfied.

Her teachers showered her with compliments and she was a member of the excluded preferred students diner club which only the best where invited for. A bright and promising future laid before her.

That was till her mother became ill.

The day the letter of her father came was the day everything went dark. Her bright future would grow darker than a Shadowmaw panther of Stranglethorn valley. She knew it right away. She knew it before she even opened the letter. Greetje had to use all her patience and wits to make her father want to learn to write and read, only to find he refused to take it to practice. If he had taken the effort to write a letter it had to be a matter of life or death. And that it was, a matter of life and death.

Her mom had caught a strange illness no medic seem to have seen before. She was dying. With grate shame and utter disappointment of her schoolmasters, she took a sabbatical and went home. She never set foot in Dalaran again.

Taking care of her mother had drained the already poor recourses of the family. Her father worked crazy hours and when he had a brief moment to breath he stayed at her bedside.

It was that image that made Greetje traded her future as powerful mage for any job she could get. She sewed cloths, she taught children and scrubbed floors of the castle her mother once lived. She even, with great shame and self-loathing, performed minor magic tricks to entertain the customers of Gallow's End Tavern. In these troubled times it was hard to keep a job, even for Greetje who took every job as serious as she had taken her education serious. She did not complain and she kept her spirit high for the sake of her family. But it wasn't enough to coffer it all. Priest barely had time these days as more habitants seem to suffer from the same illness as her mother. And if they had time, they knew nothing they could do besides helping her with the pain. Throuble was brewing in the kingdom. You could feel a dark omen thicken the air. People were getting restless, they felt abandoned by their leaders. The castle was shut for the common people and you could only entire after a thorough inspection. The authorities however ensured the good people that nothing was wrong and denied any rumor. But is the rumors of a dark wizard gathering a fast army weren't true, why did prince Arthas leave with a delegation of paladins of the Silver Hand? They would ride in such a hurry with no reason? Greetje didn't concerned herself with local politics. She had already enough on her mind. The lawful and faithful had followed Arthas or answered the call to arms of the Kings army, leaving the wicked and thieves to exploit the scared people of Tirisfall. And that turned out expensive.

Her father took any pronounced miracle cure or salvation in blind despair, regardless the cost. Payday followed soon.

So when the Agamand family announced they were looking for a farmhelp she applied as fast as she could. The Agamand family where known for their arrogance and hard work mentality, but they paid good. Greetje was accepted, though not without a long list of comments by misses Agamand. Misses Nissa Agamand ruled her household with an iron fist and Greetje was the newest disappointed that joined her ranks. She felt unwanted and frowned upon she, but still took the opportunity with both hands. And those hands were hurting a lot now.

Greetje opened her eyes slowly. She blinked as a bright sunbeam had fought its way through the think leafs of the trees and shined directly on her face. It felt surprisingly warm on her face. It was in fact very warm for this time of year. In the north warm weather was as scares as golden crowns.

Greetje looked around her. The forest was awake now, but the grass was still wet with morning dew. The big bundle of cloth next to her had small river of water that slithered downhill like watery snake. She could see the clear blue sky reflected in the two buckets of water. Today would give no rain she thought. That would mean she could hang the cloths to dry outside instead of having to prepare the attic first. And with the progress she had made already, she might have an hour for herself later on.

Greetje stood up, ignoring the painspikes that went through her legs. She stretched as far as she could and took a deep long breath, as she stood that with her harms wide spread.

Yes, today she will have no problems, not even with misses Agamand.

But she better hurry back.

She didn't want to spoil her luck and upset the misses.


	2. Chapter 2, Getting back to work

Chapter 2, Getting back to work

The trees around Greetje made long dark shadows which made the forest rather spooky. Tirisfal was known for its thick creepy pinetree forest. Many occult and horror stories were told about dark gleaming monsters hiding in the shadows of the trees. Travelers avoided going through it, scared by rumor and it's look. Greetje loved the forest. She found that if you look past the mysterious dark exterior, it was nothing more than just a forest like any other forest. Her father told her that in all his years as a woodcutter the only thing he encountered that might have been dangerous was a bear. The bear had been more scared of him wielding an axe. No, it was more likely to get bitten by a rabid woolpentinger than be attacked by a monster lurking in the forest.

Greetje didn't mind that the forest had such a bad reputation, it mend that it would stay peaceful and quiet.

She rather kept to herself. She had been bullied and laughed at for trading in her scholarship for this live. Simple people can be so cruel to those they don't understand, but it were her fellow students that hurt her the most.

Especially her friend Belladora. They had been best friends from the moment they laid eyes on each other. Belladora was a somewhat plump, short human. With her hair braided in two thick braids at the back of her neck, she could pass of for a dwarf. But it was the booming deep voice that was more of a dwarf, especially when she told people off who tried to make fun of her posture. Her choice in words didn't help her either. She could be blunt and rough and painfully direct. Greetje never knew anyone who could speak her mind so openly. Soon nobody dared to make fun of her, except herself. Belledora often joked that she had dwarven blood somewhere in the family or that she rather be a dwarf as dwarven men where more man then the romantic fools in her class. Greetje found Belladora, or Dora as Greetje called her, brighten her days. She was good company and a smart studypartner, but most of all she made her laugh. Though she looked like a dwarf her understanding of magic was more comparable with a high elf. The only trouble was that Belladora was satisfied with less than her potential while Greetje wanted to get only the best. "Hunny, get the job done and lets go grab a pint" she often impatiently said to Greetje when she wanted to go through her books again. Greetje was often disappointed that Dora didn't try harder and she tried to persuade her to try more, to annoyance of her friends. She could be blunt, but she was caring and sweet. Greetje loved her. That made it extra hard when Belladora turned against her.

That the other student frowned upon her she could handle, but it tare Greetjes heart out that Belladora did not understand. _"I can't be seen with peasants Greetje. If you want to throw away everything you worked on I don't want to see you anymore. You can be stupid on your own for all I care!"_ she had yelled at her when Greetje told her what her decision had been. Belledora had ignored all her pleads. Greetje cried for days.

Why didn't she, above all, understand?

Greetje shook her head, enough depressive thoughts for one day she demanded of herself.

It was still a long walk and she better prepare for the rest of the day. Why was it so hot? A drop of sweat pearled down her forehead onto her nose. Greetje tried to blow it off, but it wouldn't budge. She started to get a headacke of squinting. Again she shook her head fiercely and laughed.

Greetje tried to remember when it ever had been so warm and she couldn't , especially not this time of remember something of her studies that the temperature of the world rises when Outland and Azaroth are the closest together. Something about temporal displacementsfield in the Nether forced to clash with each other releasing energy. And warmth is energy. Maybe that was the case now. She had to look that up when she had the chance, but she realized that will probably be never. Frustrated she kicked against a poll of moss. It came loose and made a circular movement in front of her before it laid still. She missed her books and for a moment she regretted leaving Dalaran.

"_Get your priorities straight"_ she hissed through her teeth. Angry at herself for wishing such things, she hasten her pace. Maybe being among others would stop her thoughts from wondering of so much. She tried not to think of anything and started to hum. Humming was something her entire family did, I was actually something she did with her family. Mostly her father started with his low bass, humming the underline of a tune. Just out of the blue, while woking mostly. Her mother would join with her musical singing voice and Greetje and Fluweel joined humming the high notes with their childrens vocals. It was never planned beforehand, they never agreed upon a song, nor ever were words used. They just did and they mixed beautifully. Greetje never felt more connected with her family then when they hummed together. They were a perfect family.

A tear rolled over her cheek. She missed her family and she could not deny it. She almost heard the magical voice of her mother singing with her, while her father and sister hearten her to go on with their joyful laughter. The tears couldn't be stopped and they came freely. Greetje stood still.

She let her painful shoulders hang. The heavy burden on her back pressing hard on her shoulderblades. Her arms straight next to her body to keep the buckets of water steady and her back slightly bend. She stood their sobbing.

She missed her family and she hated her live. Why did her mother had to get so ill? Why did her family, whom have no significant part to play in the world, have to be punished so hard? Why did she had to lose everything thing, while she was trying so hard to save it? All her sacrifices seemed to be in fane. Despair ran through her body like a fever. She shook on her feet. Her hair clogged to her wet face and her head was red of exertion. Her nose was dripping.

Through the distorted breathing she kept humming. It sounded pathetic and false but it comforted her. You couldn't make much of it. Greetje started to calm down as she hummed her song. The forest around her joined her humming with wind swishing through the trees, crickets chirping and rhythmic sound of water dripping of her backpack, hitting the pebbles on the ground. The melody drifted off in the forest to disappear in the shades.

She fell quiet.

Greetje stood there in the middle of the forest beaten and tired. She carefully lowered the buckets, making sure no water was spilled. Her hands still hurt and the throbbing pain came back.

She folded them into fist and squished real hard. The flesh of het knuckles turned pale white and her hands trembled of the force used. She tilted her head to the sky. With wide eyes open she screamed a long emotional loaded scream. She put everything she had in her scream. The forest startled and several birds panicked. They lanced themselves from their hiding places and where gone as fast as their wings could carry them. There was absolute silence for a brief moment. It looked like the forest was holding its breath.

That helped.

She looked around her.

Maybe somebody heard her, but Greetje didn't care. Though she would be in a lot of trouble if misses Agamand would find out. She would disapprove of such inappropriate behavior. Thinking of her made Greetje crumble of shame. She was a bit scared of the misses of the house, though she had a deep respect for her too. She had to toughen up since she started working at the Agamand mills. Misses Agamand was harsh on her girls. She made them work like horses, but Greetje admired her in a strange way. Misses Agamand had a goal and she was determined to reach it. Next to that she protected her family as a direwolf bitch would protect her cubs. Misses Agamand wanted her Family to become the new purveyor of the royal castle. In fact she wanted to be the only supplier of flower and grain and if it was up to her much more. _"To become is to be"_ was her motto. Her entire household and family were groomed to be and act as nobility. True they had more money than most barons or dukes in Tirisfal, but they lacked the title. Misses Agamand had set her mind on marrying one of her sons to one of the aristocracy. All day misses Agamand planned and prepared just to get closer to that goal. It was either with doing the books, arranging soirée's, or writing letters of admiration to local nobility, next to the heavy duty of running the house.

She was a tall, skinny woman, with thin, silvergray hair, knotted in a tight bin at the back on the head. Her piercing dark brown eyes looked like it could shoot lightning. Her hawknose made her look even more fierce and her small mouth made it even worse. She kept the sparse lines that where her lips pressed in a tight disapproving prune, which made her face an unpleasant yet charismatic sight to see. Her head rested on a thin long neck that was hidden in a high turtleneck undergarment. Her boney shoulders, were hidden under the fancy big puffsleeved tight dress. Her chest was almost flat and didn't do her dress much justice if the chemise wasn't designed to hide anything revealing anyway. Only her wasp like waste gave her a female appearance. She always had a straight back like her spine was made of the hardest wood. Her posture and her personality tended to thorn above anyone in her presences. Misses Agamand demanded respect but never without asking. It just felt natural to bend your head when she passes.

Recently the supplies and couriers of Strahtholm were disappearing or the condition of the goods where unacceptable. Rotten consumables, mugged caravans, stolen goods, the roads to Brill had grown mysteriously dangerous and bad for business. Stratholm had become unreliable. Misses Agamand was excited, though you could barely noticed through her cold distant appearance. With all the preparations for the royal charity banquet that was held to fund the poor and unfortunate struck by the outbreak, misses Agamand calculated her chances. She knew the purser would be desperate to find a suitable supplier and misses Agamand was determined to get that job. Nothing was to go wrong.

And for that reason Greetje had started work 2 hours earlier than normal the past few days. Especially today nothing may go wrong and Greetje knew she most definitely shouldn't fail at any given task. Not today. She was determined to impress the misses and she figured she had a good chance. She had done her job with care and perfection. Misses Agamand never found anything to complain about and that was as rare as having snow in the summer. Who knows she might actual get a compliment. Greetje giggled at the thought of misses Agamand making a compliment. It would look something the same as a baby eating a sour pickle. She believed it might be hurtful for the woman to say anything positive to her staff like throwing away beer would be for a dwarf. Her train of thoughts uplifted her spirit a bit and she felt strength returning to go on.

She straighten her back and lifted the buckets of water high against her hips. She threw her head in the air and took a deep breath. Everything would be all right soon she thought. She just had to hold on a bit longer. Time to get back she told herself.

Greetje took a steady pace, slightly faster than needed but she pushed herself to keep it up. No more depressing thought she had demanded of herself and she was determined to do so. Instead she worked out a detailed list of what she had to do. First she would secure the buckets of water in main estate to be used to scrub the floors with. Misses Agamand wanted the special lake water as it had a clean smell to it, which made Greetje wonder as the amount of soap that was used was enough to coffer the smell of sewer water. Then she would span a line behind the barn far out of anyones sight to hang the laundry to dry. Except the misses expansive robes. They were to be lined up to dry near the estate. That way visitors could accidently see her laundry if they glimpsed out of the corners of their eyes. Next was the scrubbing of the floors of the main hall, the polishing of the silverware, the polishing up of the tea set and other tableware and of course the endless tiny chores like repairing the curtain seems, molding the pillows in the right amount of fluffiness and many more.

Greetje took them all one by one in deep consideration and lined them up by order of importantcy. She snickered. A few months ago lining up Elements on the periodic table was the most important task of the day. Now she worried about the order of spoons and knives on the table.

Live could be strange. Her head filled with all kinds of tasks and routines while she worked her way through the forest.

Greetje started on the night planning when she reached the edge of the forest. There she found her way to the small road leading up the hill. The sun gave the hill a red aura giving it a divine look. Greetje felt her spirit completely lifted of the sadness that overwhelmed her moments ago.

She took the road up and started humming again.

This time it was a cheerful tune.


End file.
